D.C. performance artist Mary-Averett Seelye interprets the poem by the late Josephine Jacobsen. Vin Grabill, the videographer, notes:
Mary-Averett has presented poetry for many years by performing choreographed movements of her body while she speaks a particular poem. In collaboration with Julie Simon, I produced a 30-minute program, “Poetry Moves”, that presents performances by Mary-Averett Seelye of Jacobsen’s poetry, along with interview sequences of Mary-Averett and Josephine. As Mary-Averett is interpreting Josephine’s poetry, I am interpreting Mary-Averett’s performances by utilizing the video medium in various ways to extend what Mary-Averett is doing.
My goal with this project, as well as with other collaborative projects in which I’ve engaged with performing artists, is to present the performance in a way that would not be possible live on stage in front of an audience. In 1998, “Poetry Moves” received a CINE Golden Eagle Award. I’ve continued to work with Mary-Averett since completing “Poetry Moves”, and in 2008, I completed production of a 3-DVD set surveying 40 years of Mary-Averett’s performance work with poetry.
Excerpts from the premiere performance of “Dice Thrown,” a new opera by American composer John King, at CalArts on April 23-24, 2010. Every performance is unique, according to an interview with King at Operagasm:
Can you explain in more detail how the configuration of the opera is determined by a computer-generated time code? From the description I read, it sounds like there are pieces that make up the opera, but that the order of those pieces is determined each night… am I way off? Does this mean that the text isn’t always delivered in the original order?
Yes, that’s exactly right. Each night the order changes, the durations of each aria changes (within set limits), the orchestral music changes so that sometimes a singer is singing with a full, complex orchestral texture, and the next night the same aria sung against a solo english horn (for example). The lighting changes, the video, the movement, the live electronics, etc. all change for each iteration of the piece, the changes being determined through chance operations and random number generators [that is “I” have nothing to do with it!]. We do the opera in two “acts”, each act being a different version of the poem, so that the audience can experience this “shift” within a single evening’s performance. And it will be a premiere every night!
I wonder if King has each performance filmed to preserve it for posterity? This video was uploaded to Vimeo (and also to YouTube) by the composer himself. Video appears to play a major role in the opera as well, and its design is credited to Pablo Molina.
The composition flowed directly from the sound of the poem in French, King said, which is one reason I wanted to feature this video here.
I was setting other Mallarmé texts, to be combined in a group of songs with texts by Verlaine, Baudelaire, Rimbaud and Artaud. At the end of this one collection was Un coup de Dés/Dice Thrown. I was immediately struck by its visual appearance, by its use of different text styles and font sizes and by the sound of the words when read in French. There is no rhyme scheme per se, but the words have what I call an “internal rhyme”, where vowel sounds within words of a phrase or line are the same, or consonant sounds are reiterated, so that I immediately heard these wonderful shifting rhythms of sound.
The full title of the poem is “Un coup de dés jamais n’abolira le hasard” (“A throw of the dice can never abolish chance”), and can be seen in all its glory at A. S. Kline’s Poetry In Translation site, including an easier-to-read “compressed” translation.
A highly imaginative use of Merwin’s short poem in a film called “Coping,” which Grace Cho says is the “first video/stop-motion that I made for my video class at Simon Fraser University.”
Another animation by Francesca Talenti. Enrique Cabrera appears to be an Austin, Texas-based poet, though I couldn’t turn up a good webpage for him.
Time for another winter-themed poem to inspire those of us weathering the summer heat. This video is by The Erie Wire; the filmmaker isn’t identified.
Another section of the production Men Think They Are Better Than Grass by the Deborah Slater Dance Theatre, based on poems by W. S. Merwin. This section features a trio of dancers: Shaunna Vella, Kelly Kemp and Wendy Rein.
Video trailers for books are becoming increasingly common, and sometimes, as here, they take the form of videopoetry. This is one of two trailers by Brent Robison for Djelloul Marbrook’s prize-winning collection from Kent State University Press, Far From Algiers.
Marbrook has had a distinguished career in journalism and now authors a blog on literary and cultural affairs.
With the northeastern U.S. just coming out of a heat wave, winter seems a far-off and delicious prospect. This is a poem from the collection The New Planet by Porland, Oregon-based writer Emily Kendal Frey. The video is by Zachary Schomburg, with whom Frey has also done some collaborative writing, according to this interview with her at The Collagist. For this project they also brought in Emily’s sister Elinor Frey, an accomplished cellist, whose music helped create a very wintry ambience indeed.
Beth Fulton writes,
The inspiration of this video comes from Todd Alcott’s poem, Television. I own no rights to his reading of the poem and intend only to share my own personal interpretation. Hope you like!
This is to my knowledge the first English-language videopoem to have gone viral. I first saw it last week on Facebook, where it seems to have been posted quite heavily. It’s been played 445,537 times in just three months, making it currently the most popular videopoem on Vimeo, and second only to Juan Delcan’s animation of Billy Collins’ “The Dead” on YouTube, which has amassed 761,494 views — but over the course of three years. So “Television”‘s refrain, “Look at me!” seems to be working.
Todd Alcott is a screenwriter living in Santa Monica, and judging by the comment he left below the video on Vimeo, seems to be a friend or acquaintance of the filmmaker doesn’t know the filmmaker (though he likes the video — see comments).
Another in our brief series of videopoems that riff on television. January Gill O’Neil makes nice use of TV cooking-show conventions for a poem from her debut collection Underlife. She blogged briefly about the making of the video here.
(Hat tip: Christine Swint in the Moving Poems forum.)